Kevin McLellan — The Monarch Review

The waitress came from behind the bar and placed the coffee before them. Two porcelain cups on a marble tabletop. She even brought tiny crystal cups of sugar and cream with silver spoons. It was all very nice. The woman looked at the man who sat with her over the coffee. Or, rather, she regarded him. He wasn’t bad looking. He was older than she was, but not so much that it would ever trouble her, if it came to that. And there were his good cheekbones, plus hands strong and athletic, but, she concluded, without final shaping or finish. […]